


Lazy mornings

by chaos_monkey



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Deliberate bed-wetting, Desperation, Gen, I blame that Sheppard Sprawl for everything, Masturbation, Omorashi, Self-indulgent smut, Solo Kink, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:21:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29474637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaos_monkey/pseuds/chaos_monkey
Summary: Sheppard gets the chance to indulge himself on a rare day off.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	Lazy mornings

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks due to dd for enabling me, as usual ;)

John Sheppard woke up slowly to no alarm, a distant but urgent need, and the recollection that it was his day off. 

“Mmph…” 

The sleepy huff of breath turned into a yawn as he rolled onto his back, clumsily pushing the covers half off and stretching lazily. The change in position made the quietly thrumming pressure in his belly abruptly grow more demanding and John grunted, still half-asleep, savouring that sensation of muted, mingled pleasure and pain curling through his middle. 

With his eyes still closed, he trailed one hand down his bare front to his crotch and cupped himself through his boxers with another quiet grunt. Grinding the heel of his palm lightly against his lower belly, just above the base of his shaft, sent a deliciously hot throb of need through his full bladder and straight to his already morning-stiff cock. He felt himself filling further in response, slowly, and kept palming himself through his boxers, occasionally pressing lightly over his bladder just to feel that sharper pang of heated urgency spike through him again. 

He didn’t hurry; just touched himself lazily, drifting in and out of sleep and letting the pressure and heat build gradually higher. There was no rush to get up, no need to get moving. If someone needed him, they’d radio. And the best part—

The _best_ part was, like all the living quarters in Atlantis, John had his own little Ancient-tech laundry unit in the privacy of his small bathroom, just a few steps away. 

As that hot, throbbing pressure grew, he eventually stopped just rubbing himself and gripped his cock tightly instead. Biting his lip with a huffed moan, he hooked his thumb over his shaft to raise his cock up and out from his body and finally cracked his eyes open, just enough to look down at the tent in his boxers. 

He was almost fully hard despite the now-desperate need to pee, his waistband lifted away from his hips to give him a glimpse of his own stiff, needy cock. Tightening his abs and ass to lift his hips, half-thrusting into his hand, sent a demanding cramp through his straining bladder and pulled a shaky groan from his throat. Still gazing down at himself through heavy-lidded eyes, his breath quickening just a touch from anticipation, he let himself relax; let that sleepy languor spread through him again. 

He loved these lazy mornings when he didn’t have to get up. …For _anything._

A tiny bloom of heat seeped into his shorts and John groaned softly, running his thumb over the little damp spot darkening the pale fabric over the tip of his cock. He squeezed himself in a slow half-stroke through his boxers, floating perfectly in that tranquil, almost but not quite half-sleep state, not even needing to _try_ to let go, even though he was still lying in bed— he was so full, just relaxing was enough to let it come on its own. 

He kept toying with himself like that, sleepily leaking little bursts and dribbles of piss into his boxers; his cock throbbing with two distinct but intertwining needs as he stroked himself idly through the increasingly-wet fabric, until— 

His bladder spasmed, kicking him further into wakefulness and sending a harder jet of piss into his shorts, enough for a thin stream of liquid heat to run back down his shaft and trickle over his balls. John groaned, panting, rolling over half onto his front and gripping his cock harder. He could feel his heartbeat pulsing through his bladder now, hot and urgent; and his body was refusing to cut off the flow completely anymore. With a constant slow trickle of piss leaking from the tip of his cock, spurting out harder with each sharp pang in his belly, he finally shoved the front of his dripping wet boxers down, bunched the tangled covers into his crotch, and let go for real. 

Heat flooded out around his cock, drenching his groin almost instantly as he pissed straight into his bedsheet with a low, shaky moan. He could _hear_ it hissing out of him, harder and harder as his straining muscles finally got the message that they could let go now; until he was pissing full-force into the bundle of covers and the sound of liquid spraying into already-soaked fabric filled the room along with his own ragged, whimpered moans and gasps of relief. His hips were rolling almost of their own accord, rutting down into the drenched tangle of covers he was still clutching over his groin while he pissed the bed, panting and shivering at the sweet release of all that pent-up pressure while simultaneously growing increasingly desperate for _another_ kind of release as well. 

As the wet fabric rubbing against him edged closer to the realm of painful, John finally shoved his hand into the clinging bundle of soaking wet sheets and started fisting his still-pissing cock with a whimper of need. He was almost _too_ sensitive, his head spinning; his whole body singing with conflicted, urgent demands. He stroked himself harder, panting hard, thrusting jerkily into his own grip. The rushing stream slowly sputtered out even though he _knew_ he wasn’t completely empty yet, and he buried his face in his pillow with a whining grunt, fucking desperately into his hand and the sodden pile of covers. It didn’t take much longer before he felt his balls pulling in tight, heat coiling tighter and tighter behind his cock— one-two _three_ more frantic, shuddering thrusts— 

John’s strangled gasp was muffled by the pillow as his orgasm crashed through him, his cock throbbing in his tight fist and spurting out into the sheet he’d just pissed into. He could feel his own own come spreading around his cockhead in hot, slippery waves as he came, still rutting spastically into the mess he’d made of his bed. 

Distantly realizing he’d drooled all over his pillowcase, he coaxed the last pulses of come from his twitching cock with a groan, still rubbing the over-sensitive tip against the sticky, wet sheet as he finished— and then he just lay there for a moment, panting and quivering, his eyes already growing heavy again as he drifted back down from the high of release. He finally rolled onto his back again with another groan, flinging one arm over his eyes and tucking his softening cock away into his damp boxers with his piss- and come-covered hand. Quiet, persistent need was welling up in him again, less urgent now but still making itself unquestionably known to his exhausted bladder; and with a sleepy sigh, John let it come. 

A soft hiss filled the air once more as fresh warmth spread through his boxers, piss wetting his lower belly and hip and running down the inside of his thigh to soak into the bed under him. He was still peeing, emptying himself in little intermittent spurts and trickles, when he dozed off again with a relaxed smile tugging at his lips. 

Just a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt. 

  
  



End file.
